


Company Calls

by decinq



Series: Eddie Kaspbrak's Long List of Accolades, including Masters of Applied Statistics, Masters of Economics, Office Gossip Star and Gay Internet Icon [4]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Eddie's Blood Sucking Office Job, Gen, This Does Not Represent the Author's View of Human Resource Departments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decinq/pseuds/decinq
Summary: So, in her defence for how fast the afternoon ravelled out of control: she hadn’t been paying attention. She was distracted by daydreaming up scenarios that would keep her from stripping the sheets from the bed and loading them into the washing machine in their building. She was thinking about how she needed to get a roll of quarters. She didn’t notice the tonal shift across the office as Aneesha’s office door opened and closed a few times, had no idea who had been going in or out of it for the past forty-five minutes or so. She had her Slack notifications turned off because she was trying to concentrate. She had been trying to find reasons to stay late.They say something about that. Careful what you wish for. You reap what you sow. Maybe she had been asking for it.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Eddie Kaspbrak's Long List of Accolades, including Masters of Applied Statistics, Masters of Economics, Office Gossip Star and Gay Internet Icon [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107167
Comments: 12
Kudos: 167





	Company Calls

**Author's Note:**

> again, this goes with the smau "Eddie Kaspbrak's Long List of Accolades" which you can read [ HERE](https://twitter.com/longlistau). 
> 
> and again, title is from a death cab for cutie song (lol)

It was Thursday, which was usually not Laney’s favourite day of the week because on Thursdays after work, she and Jack did two hours of chores. Laney understood why they did it - it meant they didn’t need to spend a single minute of their weekends thinking about it - but she still spent most of the day at her desk loathing the idea of going home. Which was a feeling she rarely felt. She and Jack had a great apartment, she liked being home with Jack and if Jack was working nights, she was okay being there on her own too. 

But it stood - it was a Thursday, and Laney had spent most of the day looking at the time in the corner of her computer screen and begging, praying, for a reason to stay late. She would take anything, she thought. An Excel emergency. A surprise birthday cake purchased from Costco that tasted like plastic. Fuck, she would help Troy learn his how to do VLOOKUP for the fifth fucking time if he asked and it meant she was stuck sitting beside him at his desk until after five-thirty. She would still need to do her half of the work, obviously, but she’d have an excuse to not do it immediately. She could procrastinate by offering to make dinner; she could leverage cooking and doing the dishes if Jack agreed to clean out the bathtub. That was a fair barter chip, wasn’t it? 

So, in her defence for how fast the afternoon ravelled out of control: she hadn’t been paying attention. She was distracted by daydreaming up scenarios that would keep her from stripping the sheets from the bed and loading them into the washing machine in their building. She was thinking about how she needed to get a roll of quarters. She didn’t notice the tonal shift across the office as Aneesha’s office door opened and closed a few times, had no idea who had been going in or out of it for the past forty-five minutes or so. She had her Slack notifications turned off because she was trying to concentrate. She had been trying to find reasons to stay late. 

They say something about that. Careful what you wish for. You reap what you sow. Maybe she had been asking for it. 

“Hey Laney,” Aneesha said from behind her, and Laney turned in her chair. 

“Hey Neesh,” Laney said. “How’s it goin’?” 

“I’m good,” she said, stiff, and the hair on Laney’s arms started to itch. “I tried to Slack you, but your notifications are off.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I was in the zone.” 

“All good. Can you come with me for a few minutes?” 

“Yeah,” she hit save on her document and locked her screen. She was always diligent about PCI compliance and never left her computer unlocked, and she wasn’t about to hiccup with an HR manager standing behind her just because she was nervous. 

“Do I need to bring anything?” She gestured to her laptop on its docking station. Aneesha shook her head, no, and started crossing back towards her office. Aneesha was nice to Laney, they got along just fine. Because Laney and Hae didn’t have a direct manager, and were a small, two-person team, Laney worked with Aneesha more than most other individual contributors. Their work also meant that they were involved in the performance of a lot of the departments on their floor, so sometimes she needed to talk confidential job performance with Aneesha or managers. Objectively, she could be brought into Aneesha’s office for any number of reasons that had absolutely no reason to make her nervous. She was nervous anyway. 

The blinds in Aneesha’s office were drawn, which was a rarity and felt like a terrible omen. Laney was spiraling, she knew, but it was happening fast. How far away was Aneesha’s office door from her desk? Thirty steps? Forty? Not enough time for her to go back in her mind and catch up on everything she could have possibly fucked up in the last little while. She had spent a good thirty minutes on Tuesday looking at different yoga studios near Jack’s work. But that couldn’t be it. 

When Aneesha opened her office door and ushered Laney inside, it got all the more confusing because Eddie was sitting in one of the two chairs facing Aneesha’s desk. 

“Take a seat, Laney,” Aneesha said, and Laney did. When Laney got nervous, she talked with her hands. Jack used to help her prep for interviews, and taught her to sit on her hands if she was able, tuck them under his thighs and exhale slowly. She does both. 

“Hey Eddie,” Laney said, because it felt really, really weird to say nothing. 

“Hey,” he said. His right knee was bent and he had his ankle crossed over his knee. The pant leg of his navy suit was riding up. His socks had tiny little plates of spaghetti and meatballs on them. Normally, she’d say something. They were friends, now, she thought, and she knew he thought so too. And really, wasn’t that all it took, to be friends for real? For both people to agree that they liked each other and wanted to drink bad vodka sodas every third Friday of the month in the bar around the corner? 

“Thanks for making time this afternoon, you two. I’m sure you’re both busy.”

Eddie nodded, but didn’t say anything, so Laney said, “Yeah,” which was, at least, not nothing. 

“I won’t lie, I’ve had a...more complex afternoon than I was expecting. What we’re about to talk about will require honesty and trust from all of us.” 

“What’s this about?” Eddie asked, and Laney sometimes forgot that was what he sounded like, when he meant business. She had gotten so used to _Eddie_ that she had sort of forgotten _Mister Kaspbrak_. Mister Kaspbrak liked to cut to the chase. Mister Kaspbrak knew his worth. Mister Kaspbrak did not like to waste time. 

Aneesha sighed. “It has come to the attention of the People and Culture team,” she said - and Laney wished she would spontaneously combust right there, because there was no way the rest of whatever she was about to say was anything good - “that there are some _concerns_ from other members of the team regarding the nature of your… personal relationship.”

Laney blinked. 

Eddie said, “What the hell does that mean?”

Aneesha sighed. “Mister Kaspbrak, I need to be clear that I am not accusing you or Elaine of anything. I am giving you an opportunity to follow protocol. There are some… office cooler conversations getting passed around. As I’m sure you’re both aware, it’s not strictly against the organization’s policy for two employees to be involved in personal romantic relationships. But certainly you can understand the conflict of interest I’m concerned about given the way your two teams work together, not to mention the influence of your position, Mister Kaspbrak, over Elaine’s.” 

“Pardon me?” Eddie said, and Elaine wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. 

“I, uh, sorry,” Laney said, “Do you think we’re, like, together?”

“It is only my business insofar as, if you are, I will need you both to fill out some paperwork.’

Eddie barked a laugh, which sounded less like a laugh and more like a scoff.

“You called me in here because someone wanted to start some gossip? You realize Elaine is married, right?”

“Unfortunately you have to understand that, as we all know, that has never stopped anyone.” Aneesha said. 

“Aneesha. I’m a lesbian,” Laney said. “I’m married to _a woman_.”

“This is a fucking joke,” Eddie said, and Laney realized she was maybe seeing the bridge between Eddie and Mister Kaspbrak. The point where two lines meet. “Aneesha, seriously.”

“If you say you are not involved, I believe you. I simply wanted to give you the opportunity to take appropriate steps should it be the case that you are.”

“We aren’t,” Eddie said.

“Great,” Aneesha said. “As you know, I don’t have a lot of patience for gossip and have always considered the two of you to be… very professional. It’s important to me that everyone feels safe in our working environment. That said, it came to my attention because there are concerns that your personal _friendship_ makes it difficult for others in this office to approach you,” she looked at Eddie as she said it, “about you,” and looked at Laney. “You understand this is not something I like hearing or sharing.”

“I encourage all my team members and everyone else in the organization to share specific and open feedback with me at any time,” Eddie said, flat and monotonous. “I resent that anyone would come to you rather than come to me.”

Before Aneesha could say anything, Laney said, “Sorry, uh, are we in trouble for anything? I just want to be clear.”

“No,” Eddie said to her, a bit softer than he’s been in the office since he said hello to her, and Aneesha said, “No,” at the same time, then looked at Eddie. 

He gave her a stern look. “Listen, Aneesha. Elaine and I go to happy hours every once in a while. She invited me to her wedding. We sometimes go to a yoga class in Brooklyn with her wife, Jacklyn. We’re _friends._ If there’s an implication being made here that two grown adults cannot maintain a professional working relationship while also maintaining a healthy and normal friendship, I’ll need you to be specific about what the issue is. Elaine has other friendships with other employees here - including the coordinator of my department. Is the issue that we’re of different genders? Is it because I’m going through a divorce? Is it because I don’t spend time with other employees socially?” 

“Mister Kaspbrak,” Aneesha said, and Elaine gripped at her thighs hard. “There’s no implica-”

“Aneesha,” he said. “Maybe we can excuse Elaine from this conversation and if you have specific concerns about my behaviour, you can share that feedback with me candidly without taking up more of her time.”

Laney looked from Eddie to Aneesha, and didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. 

Aneesha said, “Thank you for your time, Laney. I apologize for any misunderstanding, and appreciate your honesty in clearing up this unfortunate miscommunication.”

Laney looked at Eddie, who gave a single tilt of his chin, a nod. It took everything in her not to cry. 

She slipped out the door, and closed it behind her. She heard Eddie say, “You’ve questioned Elaine’s character and undermined her marriage, all because of some stupid rum-” before she walked back to her desk.

  
  


Her hands were shaking. She knew her breathing wasn’t normal. She was sure her cheeks were bright red. 

Hae wasn’t at their desks, and Laney wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not. It’s not like she would be able to talk to her about it while she was still here, while she was still clocked in. It was only 3:45. She turned off her computer. She shoved her phone into her bag. Her ID badge was in her jacket pocket. 

She pushed the button on the elevator too hard, too many times. She texted Alex: _Hey, if anyone asks, I went home. I have a headache that won’t go away._ When the doors closed and she was able to hit the button for the lobby, she started to cry.

It wasn’t until she was walking down the steps of the train station that Alex responded. _Okay babe! Hope you feel better!!! See you tomorrow?_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
